


sleepeasy

by thunderylee



Category: Kanjani8 (Band), Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, Consent Play, Drugs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, hypnosis/mind control, sleepy/unconscious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2019-01-16 11:56:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12342231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Ohkura kind of likes it, the way Taguchi does all the thinking for him.





	sleepeasy

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written with ayamehadouken for kink bingo.

“You are getting  _very sleepy_ ,” Taguchi draws out, and Ohkura would roll his eyes if the serum with which Taguchi had injected him hadn’t already kicked in. “Are you still with me, Tada?”

Ohkura blinks, or at least he thinks he does—he’s not sure what’s real and what’s not anymore. “Mm,” he says noncommittally, and Taguchi’s blurry smile widens. “Feels weird.”

That’s an understatement. What he wants to say is that his tongue is heavy in his mouth, his limbs tingling by his sides immobile, and what feels like electricity surges through his veins like that’s his only method of response right now. But he can’t say any of that, because his brain can’t connect with his vocal cords like normal, and this must have been what Taguchi had been talking about when he’d been going on about _complete surrender_.

Taguchi runs his hands underneath Ohkura’s shirt, and it feels kind of strange as he pushes it up. Ohkura remains relaxed as he’s manhandled out of his top; a few moments later and his belt and jeans are being yanked open. He barely lifts his hips for Taguchi to pull them off of him.

“You have such a pretty mouth,” Taguchi says, the tone of his voice penetrating deep inside Ohkura’s mind. “I’d love to feel it around my cock.”

Not that Ohkura doesn’t already want to do that, but hearing Taguchi say it like that makes him want to do it more, his lips parting for Taguchi’s thumb that traces their outline.

Ohkura laps at Taguchi’s thumb when it slips into his mouth. He could keep going, but Taguchi pulls away. It isn’t for long, though, because in the next few moments Taguchi settles back, tugging at Ohkura’s wrist. His voice is soft as he murmurs his next words.

“Come here, Tada, and let me feel you.”

It feels as if it takes forever, as if he’s moving in slow motion through deep waters, for Ohkura to sink to his knees between Taguchi’s spread thighs. His jeans are already open and shoved down, all of the work already done for him as Taguchi palms himself slowly.

He doesn’t linger long, fisting his hands into the upholstery to either side of Taguchi’s hips. Ohkura simply slides forward, letting his mouth fall open around the other.

His lips stretch easily around it, accepting the length all the way to the back of his throat. He doesn’t have a gag reflex usually, but now it’s like his throat isn’t even concerned about anything, swallowing no longer an instinct. It’s Taguchi who has to rub fingers along the back of Ohkura’s jaw, making the muscles move, and a low groan rewards him for the effort.

“So good,” Taguchi mutters, and the phrase repeats like a mantra in Ohkura’s mind.

This is nothing like how Ohkura is in bed, at least when he’s not fueled by whatever Taguchi shot up into him and Taguchi’s words in his head directing his every move. He steadies himself with both hands on Taguchi’s waist and _sucks_ , his head moving back and forth like Taguchi had a fist in his hair guiding him.

Taguchi allows him to keep going; one of his hands pries Ohkura’s fingers from his waist and slicks them. “Open up for me,” Taguchi whispers.

The angle is strange, but it doesn’t really matter to Ohkura. He slips two fingers in at once, faltering in his rhythm before working it out. At any other time this would almost be too much effort, but the low voice Taguchi keeps speaking in is soothing and persuasive. Ohkura’s fingers work in and out for a few minutes longer, until Taguchi’s warm palm against the side of his face distracts him.

“Up, on your back, next to me.”

Ohkura moves without active thought, following orders and blinking up at Taguchi. The dim light in the room mixed with Ohkura’s blurry vision almost makes it look like Taguchi has a halo. His legs spread on their own as Taguchi hovers over him, fingers trailing down to where Ohkura’s are still pushing in and out of his body.

Another one joins them and Ohkura gasps, rocking back toward the touch that isn’t his own, and he closes his eyes just in time to feel Taguchi’s lips on his. It starts off as a light kiss, like a tentative taste, then Taguchi licks his way into Ohkura’s mouth and Ohkura can’t do anything but lie there and respond.

_You want me to fuck you, right?_ Taguchi’s voice sounds, though Ohkura’s not sure whether Taguchi actually spoke the words or if it was just in his head.

Either way, Taguchi doesn’t wait for any sort of answer Ohkura could give; he simply tugs Ohkura’s hand out of the way. He holds himself steady as he slides in, but then both of his hands encircle Ohkura’s wrists as he begins to thrust in and out. He presses them down, keeping Ohkura from moving.

It’s okay, though, because Ohkura kind of likes it, the way Taguchi does all the thinking for him. Everything _feels_ more, and Ohkura can cope with that. He struggles without trying, perhaps another granted subconscious request from Taguchi, and a soft moan falls from his lips when Taguchi thrusts harder. His body is so lax yet still tight, hips rocking up involuntarily to take Taguchi in even deeper, and Taguchi’s grunts take him higher.

“Junno,” Ohkura gets out weakly, his mind piercing through whatever spell Taguchi has on his body to speak the name. It comes out as a protest, a demand, and an exclamation all in one, and Taguchi just pins Ohkura’s wrists to either side of his head as the force doubles and quickly sends him racing toward complete unconsciousness.

Taguchi seems to sense that Ohkura is fading on him, and he rearranges Ohkura’s wrists to both fit in one hand. His free hand slips between them and he jerks Ohkura roughly. It only lasts for a few moments before Ohkura gasps, shuddering as he finishes.

Everything goes black. When Ohkura comes to, he feels sticky and sore. Next to him, Taguchi is still mostly dressed, smiling serenely.

“So, Tada, how was that nap?”


End file.
